THE BATH Poem by Martin Figura

THE BATH



Crow-eyed nurses watch the faint echo of a man
in six inches of bath water, silver-white lithium
drifts metallic through his blood stream, the span
of his hand in front of his face takes the low hum
from his mouth, returns it as a pebble to his tongue
for him to swallow, keep in the swim of his belly
below the muffled drum of his heart with all the rest.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Robert Murray Smith 06 June 2018

An imaginative write with great imagery, ++10

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